Monday, April 29, 2024

truth about Fatherless Men

It was my inaugural day at my first adult job, fresh out of high school and taking a gap year to explore my passion for medicine. A serendipitous opportunity had unfolded before me.

My mother, a dedicated nurse, had cared for an elderly Colonel whose daughter held a prestigious position as the admissions director at a medical school. "Simone has dreams of becoming a doctor, but she's uncertain. Is there a way she can explore the field?" my mother inquired on my behalf. Revered for her exceptional care, the Colonel's daughter swiftly arranged a position for me in the admissions office, no application or resume needed—my first step into a new world.

It was the end of August, my first day at the new job. My mom drove me there. When she came upon the vicinity of where I would work, she stopped and pointed, “I think it’s in one of those buildings.” I paused and looked, wanting to ask her, “Can you please come in with me,” but I did not, knowing I would have to figure it out by myself eventually, by it, I mean life.

As I got out of the car and waved goodbye to my mom and siblings, I hesitantly walked forward, instinctively guided to the building where I would be working. Inside, I was scared; this was a new experience. How would my coworkers be? Would they like me? Would I like them, I thought to myself. As I timidly looked around at the names on the buildings, I saw the one that I would be working in.


It was early, I was early. I stood outside the building for a moment and took it all in. I was in no rush to go in. Where would I go anyways once I was inside? “Hi,” a voice said from out of nowhere jolting me out of my thoughts and back to reality. I was no longer alone.

“Hello,” I replied back.

“I haven’t seen you around here before. Do you need help finding anything?” he asked, his kind face smiling at me, putting me at ease. I was thankful for his presence.

“It’s my first day today, I’m new. I’ll be working in the admissions office,” I told him.

“I know exactly where it is. You’re in good hands. Jane works there, Robin...” he went on, listing one of the names I had already known. “I can show you where it is if you’d like?”

“Yes,” I said, feeling delighted and thankful.

It was just he and I in that moment. Like a beacon of light, he had come out of nowhere to hold my hand on my first day of work, much like a dad would for his daughter on her first day of school. It was what I wanted, what I needed in that moment.

He opened the building door and ushered me in. As we got inside, he pointed down a hallway, “I work down there, if you ever need anything, feel free to stop by. The admissions office is straight ahead.” He looked at me as I looked at him, and then, on impulse, as though reading my inner thoughts, he said, “Actually, I can walk you there.” I don’t know how he instinctively knew that is exactly what I wanted and needed in that moment.

“Thank you,” I said.

He held my hand and walked me down the short hallway to my office. Actually, he didn’t hold my hand, but it felt just the same having his presence there taking me to my first day of school except this was my first day of work and as of a few months earlier I was now legally an adult. But it felt just the same, the two, the first time going to school and the first time going to a real job. I simply desired someone to hold my hand and usher me into this new realm and he did just that. Instinctively he had known it was what I desired. 

We walked down the hallway together, and he continued to talk to me, putting me at ease and making me forget the anxiety I previously felt. I was beyond thankful and grateful to him.

“I’m Steve, by the way. What’s your name?” he asked.

“Simone,” I replied back to him warmly.

“Here we are, the admissions office,” he said as he waved to someone in the office.

“Thank you,” I said to him again, a smile warming my face.

“Don’t be a stranger. I work just down the hall. Let me know how everything is going and if you’re liking it.”

“Ok, I will. Nice to meet you.”

He was a beacon of light for me, guiding me in this new place. A friendly presence. He had put me at ease, and instinctively, I knew in him I had a friend. He had held my hand without actually holding my hand all the way to my new experience. It was exactly what I needed in that moment, and I was thankful.


From time to time, I would see him in our shared hallway, and he would greet me warmly, always asking how things were going. “Great,” I would say, a smile beaming on my face.

And indeed, it was going great. There were so many new experiences, so many new crushes, so many dates. My coworkers were lovely. All was well.

“Hi, Steve,” I said to him one day as I walked by him in that hallway juncture we always seemed to meet.

“Hi, Simone,” he smiled warmly at me as we walked on by.

I was with an older coworker, my best friend there who I absolutely adored. It was a few months now since my first arrival there.

“How do you know him?” she asked me.

“Who, Steve?” I replied.

“Yes, Dr. Q,” she said in awe.

“Do you know who he is?” she continued.

“I met him on my first day here; he walked me to the office when I didn’t know where to go,” I told her.

“Oh my gosh, Simone, he likes you. Can’t you see? And do you not know who he is?” she went on.

“I guess I don’t know who he is besides his name,” I said to her.

“He’s the Vice President; he’s very important and very rich,” she continued.

I didn’t care about any of that. But I was intrigued by the notion that he liked me. I thought he was attractive but I didn’t think of him then romantically; he was way older, albeit I felt warmth towards his kindness. And if he was all she said, I loved his humbleness and kind unassuming nature. He hadn’t mentioned any of it to me, nor did I even think to ask.

Nonetheless, I was curious enough to find out more about him now.

“You should give him a chance, Simone. He could change your life,” she continued.

She was now bordering on the territory of lala land. I didn’t want my life to change. I didn’t want any of that. I was 18; I was simply living my life and enjoying it on my terms.


“Knock, knock,” I said as I stopped at Steve’s open office door unannounced.

Before getting there, I was greeted by a secretary who wanted to know which office I was going to. “Steve,” I said, not knowing office formalities yet. She looked at me quizzically.

“Umm, Dr. Q,” I said, his last name rolling off my tongue for the first time.

“Oh yes, right, he’s a few doors down on the left.”

“Hello,” he said as he stood up to greet me with the warmest smile.

“Nice to see you here finally,” he said.

“Yes, I decided to stop by. So, this is where you work.”

“Yes,” he said, the smile never leaving his face.

I looked around his office unabashedly. Clearly, I could see my coworker wasn’t lying; yet his presence still put me at ease.

“Who is that?” I asked, pointing at a picture on his desk. “That’s my daughter; we adopted her from Ecuador as a baby; now she’s 18 and attending college.”

“Oh, she’s my age,” I said, feeling a brief pang of jealousy that she got to have him as a dad and that everything seems to be taken care of for her, school included while I was here working still trying to figure out my own life.

“How old are you?” I asked him.

He smiled wider, not shying away from my oblivious boldness.

“54,” he said honestly.

“Oh, wow,” I replied. “That’s older than my parents.”

If he felt a sting, he didn’t show it. But I didn’t mean for it to sting nonetheless, it was more so an observation.

“So, what brings you here today, Simone?” he asked.

I wondered briefly if he had any meetings I was keeping him away from. If he did, he did not mention it. His office looked important. He looked important. He was the Steve I had met, but I could tell he was more than that in this role he was playing.

“I just wanted to see where you worked.”

I stood up and looked out his floor to ceiling expansive window. “Nice view. You can see everything.”

“Yes,” he acknowledged. “How are you liking your office, your coworkers?”

“I love it,” I told him truthfully.

“That’s good. I know a few of the other departments so if you ever want a change or don’t like it anymore, just let me know.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Well, I guess I should probably head on back to my office,” I said to him.

​He got up to walk me out. “Okay, it was nice of you to stop by. Don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t,” I said as I left.


 During this time I was dating others and then started a relationship with one of the med students. After close to a year of dating, we broke up. Feeling a bit gutted and wanting to be with somebody even above a med student as a way of some internal immature payback (for nothing), I decided to set my sights on Steve.

Somehow, he had felt the change in me, felt that I was now ready for him.

We met again randomly, unplanned, in that hallway juncture during lunch and walked together to the lunch hall. He was fidgety, a bit nervous this time. While I, I was still me.

On our walk there, he briefly held my hand for a moment, touching me for the first time. Yet, it didn’t feel foreign to me; that first day that he walked me to my office, I had felt his touch, felt his hand energetically holding mine while he walked me to my office.

The cafeteria was full of an array of people. We separated for a few moments to make our selection.

“Simone, who is that?” another coworker whispered to me.

“Just a friend,” I said to her.

“Oh my, he really likes you,” she said.

“Really, how can you tell?” I asked her.

“Just look at his interaction with you, and the way he’s looking at you, he’s really smitten, Simone. Trust me, I know these things,” she added.

“Can I pay for your lunch?” he asked me cutting off our conversation.

“Sure,” I said as my coworker gave me a reassuring look.

He paid for our lunch, and I allowed him to take the lead in the crowded cafeteria to find us an empty table.


 To my utter surprise, he walked us over to a crowded table with about 4 or 5 other ladies. That’s weird, I thought to myself. Why didn’t he choose one of the empty tables in the back so we could talk and get to know each other better? Nonetheless, I sat down trying not to show my dismay and disappointment.

But before I could sit down fully, one of the ladies shadily asked, “Dr. Q, how’s your wife?”

Wife!!! Wife!! What! He has a wife. To say I was shocked was an understatement. But I couldn’t show it; I had too much pride. There were too many people around. I didn’t want him or them to see how flustered I was by this revelation.

But talk about shady office bitches, but then again, he was the shady one. Technically, he could say he didn’t do anything to lead me on, but we both knew it was a very thin line that he completely straddled.

“She’s good,” he said, and I looked down at his hand, which I had never thought to look at before, and there it was, a ring. Now that I think of it, even the brief hand-holding he fumbled a bit, I could see now he was trying to cover up his ring finger.

Marriage was not something I had considered before in suitors. In high school, the guys either had a girlfriend or not, but never a wife, never a wife.

I wouldn’t allow him or them to see me flinch. I thought to myself, noted, he really has some nerves. Wow.

So, the cat was out the bag now. It all made sense. There were a few times I would see him, and he would uncomfortably cover his hand. It all made sense now. I had overlooked it because it wasn’t something I was even aware needed to be accounted for.

“This is Simone,” he said informally, “she works in the admissions office.”

I went along as nonchalantly as him, but inside, I was seething. The audacity.

After finishing my lunch, I threw my trash away, bid the ladies a friendly goodbye, and went on my merry way, leaving him and them behind. I had immersed myself into the table conversation as much as possible, not giving away my dismay at the new information. The ladies felt I was harmless enough now, or at least knew that I knew all the facts about Steve’s life. They continued to talk about his wife and kids, another daughter a few years older than I.

We both knew what had occurred in that moment, but neither of us acknowledged it. He knew he had been found out, and now, should anything happen between us, I was no longer naive to the truth. We both knew this.


 I don’t know why or the reason behind it as I had written Steve off completely after the shocking discovery at lunch, but somehow I ended up back in his office. I think it was an impulsive decision, still in shock at the recent discovery and his audacity, I made my way back to his office.

And this time, she was on his desk, a picture of his wife, himself, and his kids. A family photo that wasn’t there before. Maybe he had awkwardly turned it over the first time I visited his office; it made sense as I could remember him fumbling around the first time I’d entered his office. But now, the cat was out the bag, so why even bother covering it up? Why even bother saving face?

“Is this your wife?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he said, not elaborating, not apologizing for leading me on. Nothing.

I could sense that he knew I was disappointed in him and that I was grappling with what to do.

“How long have you been married?” I asked him somberly.

“27 years.”

Wow, I thought to myself.

She was so different from me in looks, pretty but different, yet here we both were energetically connected at a crossroad, her none the wiser that in that moment I was contemplating a decision that could affect her life.

I don’t think I said much after that. I don’t remember. But I know I didn’t stay long before leaving his office. And I didn’t ask him why he didn’t tell me. We both knew why; I may have been young, but I wasn’t dumb. Some things didn’t need answering.

I had made the decision to cut him off from my energetic field, distancing myself from his presence as much as possible.

Occasionally, I would see him around the campus, and I would quickly walk away without uttering a greeting, ignoring any from him. Drastically drawing my stance in the sand, showing my hand clearly and succinctly.

I didn’t care who he was, what he was. I wanted nothing to do with him.

He knew I had made my decision. We both knew this.

But this was not the end.

Meeting Again

 A few months after our last meeting, while walking home from the campus, I saw him again. It was late; most of the workers had already left. I had stayed back as I normally did to workout.

I was wearing a black skintight workout shorts and a tight shirt, feeling quite delectable after my workout and knowing I exuded attraction.

His two-seater silver convertible, the newest model on the market, pulled up next to me. Top off, windows down; fitting, I thought to myself. He must’ve been working late that day.

“Hi Simone, can I give you a ride?” he asked, not even knowing where I was heading.

I contemplated it for a moment. He was attractive, his car attractive, I still had some feelings for him. I envisioned myself in the front seat next to him and contemplated the illicitness of it; where would we go, what would we say, what would we do. I knew the door was wide open, the ball in my court. But was this even a court I wanted to play in? It was wrong, all of it. This was not the way I wanted it, wanted him. A few months earlier, I would’ve gladly taken his ride had it presented itself. But now, it was too conflicting, too against my own moral code.

“No, I’m good,” I told him as I continued to walk, his car slowly keeping pace with me. We were alone once again, no one there to see what was unfolding.

“Please, Simone. Let me give you a ride,” he pleaded with me.

“Really, I don’t mind walking. It’s just more exercise for me.”

He continued to drive slowly next to me, asking me again to let him give me a ride to wherever I wanted him to take me.

I didn’t know what he thought a ride would do. I didn’t need any explanation from him. I didn’t want his friendship. I didn’t care to absolve him from his guilt, mend the broken fence or give in to an illicit affair. I knew none of it was a possibility I wanted to entertain.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take his ride or forget the deception, the illusions.

“Steve, I’m not coming in your car with you. It doesn’t matter what you say to me,” I told him.

He looked defeated for a moment. “Ok. Fine,” he said gruffly and slowly sped off.


 There came a time shortly after that when I knew it was time for me to move on from that place. I had learned all that I could learn, experienced what I needed to, and my spirit knew it was time to start anew. I did not tell him I was leaving. He was not mine; he was not privy to my life. Yet when that last day came, I took the shortcut in front of his office window on my way out. Maybe I hoped I would see him one last time, or I simply wanted to take his office in for a final moment before departing from that place for good.

On that last day, I had worked out again after work as I normally did. It was around 5:30 pm when I finished. The workers had cleared out, and there was no one left in sight. I walked the shortcut way behind his office, his expansive window greeting me. I looked at it from a distance and could see he was still there.

And as though driven by an unknown desire, I walked up to the outside of his window and knocked. He looked up at me, a warm smile engulfed his face as he waved. He walked over to stand next to his window as I stood outside behind the glass looking in at him. We stood there taking in each other, taking in the moment.

An eternity may have passed between us as we stood there facing each other. Then, I did the unexpected. I closed my eyes and for a moment I disappeared in his embrace while he watched me from his side of the glass. With my eyes still closed, I leaned in and kissed him, the glass meeting my embrace. I remained there for a moment before slowly backing away.

As I looked at him a final time, there was longing embedded on his face. He stood silently, taking in the moment and what had just occurred between us, what I had just done. And with that, I stepped away, this time for good.

I was closing the door. I was saying goodbye to him, to all of it. I was moving on. It was my goodbye, an ode, an appreciation for his kindness on that first day when he had metaphorically held my hand and made my transition there that much easier. For that, I was thankful.

I would be starting anew again somewhere else I did not know quite yet, but this time with no hand to hold. Yet innately, I knew I was strong enough now for that next phase of my life to unfold. As I know it again now.


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